In the depths of the night,
The stars shining bright,
A simple creature,
Watching a simple man's plight.
The man tilled the earth that was dry,
But it 'twas to no avail,
His seeds grew old and died.
And the poor man,
He sat down and cried.
The creature felt sympathy,
For this man in misery.
So the creature tilled the dry earth,
Made it soft and fertilized, fresh new earth.
And when the old man saw the sprouts,
He began to jump and shout.
Running into the village square,
He shouted
Fear not, the world has become fair!
And the creature smiled sadly,
His job was done,
And he whispered softly,
God will give you the sun
YOU ARE READING
Oleander-COMPLETED
PoetryALL RIGHTS RESERVED Her words were like oleander flowers, so delicate, like a gossamer spider string, but poisonous, like her scarred, despondent heart. *in other words, my crap poetry that is still really important to me*
